Inconceivable Love
by toffeecakesxox
Summary: Love is many things. Love is everywhere. These are fifty glimpses into inconceivable, unbelievable love. And each relationship is unique in its own way. DeanRomilda, Other Pairings. Requests Taken. Response to the 50 Phrases Challenge by L'amoureuse.
1. Eleven: Phrase of Craze

**Phrase: **Number 11; 'Stop it! Just stop! Stop talking, stop breathing, stop making me so damn crazy!'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **K+**  
Word Count: **661**  
Summary: **Maybe, Romilda thinks, being crazy isn't so bad. Especially if he's the cause of it all.**  
Author's Notes: **_Here's the start of my very long response to an awesome challenge by __L'amoureuse__ on the "Writing Challenges" forum._**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing you recognize. Such as Harry Potter, which rightfully belongs to JK Rowling. The lucky lady._

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**PHRASE ELEVEN**

**You Make Me Crazy**

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"Hey, Vane!"

I turn to see Dean Thomas, of all people, waving at me with Seamus Finnigan by his side.

"What is it, Thomas?" I ask scathingly, trying to ignore the accelerated pounding of my heart, as he walks forward enough to be about 3 feet away from me.

"Go with me to Hogsmeade on Saturday."

Desperately, I want to say yes, but instead, I reply, "I'd rather go with the giant squid."

Seamus lets out this weird _'oh! Dean just got dissed' _sort of noise, and I fight back an eye roll.

"Sorry, Thomas," I say, sounding _almost_ apologetic. He just stares at me with this unfathomable expression on his face, and I, slowly, turn on my heel to catch up with my friends.

"Hey you guys!" I cry. "Wait up!"

They, being the very wonderful friends that they are, stop, almost comically, in their tracks.

"What was that about?" Bridgette asks, with a side glance to Seamus and Dean.

"Oh, Thomas just asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him."

"And?"

"I said no."

"But, Romilda! We all know you fancy him."

I sputter unintelligibly. "I do not fancy Dean Thomas!"

"Yes, you do. And don't even try to deny it!" Greta adds.

I huff. "Fine. I fancy him."

They all squeal simultaneously, and I manage a smile.

--

"Oh Merlin," I mutter, once I see Dean walking along High Street with Seamus beside him.

Bridgette glances my way. With a small, irritated sigh, she grabs my arm—much to my displeasure—and drags me to the two boys.

With a giggle, she latches onto Seamus's arm, leading him away and into Honeydukes. Sometimes I wish she hadn't agreed to go with him.

I growl something under my breath.

"What was that?" he asks curiously.

"Nothing," I reply.

He shrugs.

I don't exactly know _why_ but I blow up at the gesture.

**"Stop it! Just stop! Stop talking, stop breathing, stop making me so damn crazy!"**

He seems surprised by the outburst, even going so far as to take a step back.

I don't blame him.

Once the words sink in, though, he steps closer, and I feel my breath catch.

_Breathe, Romilda, breathe._

"I make _you_ crazy?" he asks, his voice full of doubt.

"Well, yeah," I respond in a small voice so unlike me.

"You obviously don't know how you make _me_ feel, Romilda," he says.

"Oh," I peer up at him through dark lashes, "how do I make you feel, then, Dean?" I can't help the seductive undertone of my voice.

"Well, for one, you make me go crazy. Two, you just make me want you more whenever you reject me, a-and, have I mentioned the fact that you make me go crazy?"

I felt a smile forming at my lips. "Yeah, you've mentioned it once or twice."

I feel the gentle pressure of his hand on my hip, and I subconsciously lean into him.

A smirk tugs at his mouth. "So, will you go to Hogsmeade with me then?"

I look into his dark, almost-black eyes. "Sure. I'd love to."

He grins down at me, and I can't help a smile back.

When he bends his head down, though, I raise my face up to meet his with a painstaking slowness.

Finally, my lips meet his, and I nearly crumble to the ground at the unanticipated shock I feel.

When we pull away a few seconds later, I stare into his eyes with mine probably as wide as a tennis ball's.

"Did you feel that?" I ask breathlessly.

He nods, a dazed glaze in his eyes. "Yeah, I felt that alright."

"Maybe that's why we're so crazy," I tease him, heading in the direction of Honeydukes.

"Maybe," he agrees, placing a kiss on my temple as though he'd been doing it all his life, his arm wrapped around my waist.

And, maybe, being crazy isn't all that bad. Especially if he's the cause of it all.

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**Author's Notes: **_Hope you liked the first installment (of fifty). Don't worry, though, Through Thick and Thin will be updated as soon as possible!_

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd love the feedback.**_


	2. One: Banana Love

**Phrase: **Number 1;'You look like a banana.'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda, smidge of Harry/Ginny, and Ron/Hermione**  
Rating: **K+**  
Word Count: **696**  
Summary: **Who ever knew banana-like dresses could bring two people together?**  
Author's Notes: **Thanks to **L'amoureuse** for the review!_Here's another phrase-drabble-thing! This, in no way, coincides with Phrase Eleven._**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing you recognize. Such as Harry Potter, which rightfully belongs to JK Rowling. The lucky lady._

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**PHRASE ONE**

**Banana Love**

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**"You look like a banana."**

Those were the first words he said to me once he'd seen my attire for Harry's and Ginny's wedding.

I couldn't blame him.

I was wearing a simple, yellow sundress paired with bright, high-heeled shoes, and sunny-yellow earrings, plus the huge, yellow flower in my hair added to the effect.

Ron told me I looked like Luna Lovegood at Bill and Fleur's wedding, but more… 'in your face' he'd said.

I'd growled.

"Well, thanks," I replied stiffly, trying—in vain, might I add—to glare at him.

"N-no," he stuttered. "I like bananas. In fact, I love them!"

I couldn't help but blush—it is a reflex reaction!

"Really," he said, his voice calmer than before. "I love bananas."

"Really," I mocked. "Bananas are not my favorite fruit but I guess I like them enough to not gag at the sight of them… unlike with you."

"Oh, that's just cold."

I sighed; irritated already—and 5 minutes hadn't even passed yet! Not that I was counting or anything.

Because I wasn't. Counting, I mean.

"See you later." I made a move to turn around.

"Aha!" he crowed. "So there will be a later."

I grumbled. "Whatever you say."

--

After Harry and Ginny became Mr. and Mrs. Potter, he found me again, drinking butterbeer while watching the couples swirling and twirling on the molten-gold dance floor.

I could feel his very _presence_ by me, and I tried to ignore the heavy beating of my heart.

_Tried_, being the key word. My mind was suddenly imagining dreams of him getting onto one knee, a shining, and hopeful, love-filled look for me…

Only for me…

"Do you want to dance?" he suddenly blurted, and I jolted back to reality.

"Er—what?"

He flushed slightly. "I said 'do you want to dance'?"

"Er—" I repeated. "Sure. I guess."

When I placed my hand in his, I felt a small tingle run up my spine.

I decided that I liked it. The feeling of shocks up and down my body… even at the simplest touch.

With a grace, a skill I never knew he had, he whirled me onto the dance floor. Instinctively, I placed my right hand on his shoulder, my left in his right.

Inwardly, I blushed when his left hand rested lightly on my waist.

My banana-tinted dress—even though the color was considerably lighter—swished around my calves, making me break into a grin at the feeling of the simple silk—not the rough coarseness of school robes, even though it had been a while since Hogwarts.

He smiled back at me, and I felt my breath catch when his smile reached his eyes, making them sparkle.

"Oh," I breathed subconsciously.

I could see a smirk making its way onto his face, and I blushed immediately.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"Nothing, just a trick of the light."

"Okay, then."

After a couple more songs, my feet were sore from all the whirling and twirling.

He seemed to notice, though, and led me back to my table.

I slipped my shoes off my feet, gently rubbing them. He watched me with intent, dark eyes, and I blushed under his gaze.

"What is it?" I mocked playfully.

"Nothing. You just look adorable when your feet hurt."

"Oh," I said, my breath being taken away when I blinked, and his face suddenly appeared in front of mine.

"Oh," I repeated, the only word I _could_ emit as his lips suddenly closed over mine.

My hands found their way to his cheek, gently tracing his jaw line, as his hand wrapped around my neck, bringing my face closer to his.

There was something very safe about the way his mouth moved against mine, with mine, and I leaned forward, deepening this kiss that I really didn't want to end—

He pulled away, making me whimper softly in response.

A grin spread onto his face, and I laughed softly.

When I turned to face him, I blushed, but he grabbed my waist, his hands scrunching up the yellow fabric of my dress.

And, really, I didn't care.

Because, after all, he loved bananas.

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**Author's Notes: **_Whoo! Another one finished. 48 to go! Requests are still open, btw! _

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd love the feedback!**_


	3. Two: A Revelation

**Phrase: **Number 2; 'You SLEPT with Romilda. You don't even like her!'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **T**  
Word Count: **479**  
Summary: **A confrontation with his roommates—especially his best friend—leads Dean Thomas to a revelation.**  
Author's Notes: **AU. _Chapter Three, Phrase 2. Hope you enjoy! (Oh, btw, this oneshot has Romilda as the same age as the 7__th__ years. Just to clarify. Usually, she'd be 2 years younger but I had to make an exception.)_**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling!_

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**PHRASE TWO**

**A Revelation**

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Two loud voices sounded in the Gryffindor 7th Year Boys Dormitory, in the forms of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, both wide awake while Ron, Harry, and Neville watched from the sidelines—their beds.

"Dean! Where were you last night?" Seamus asked, his hair flying around. He looked like a madman, really.

Dean blushed. "I was… well, I was—out."

"Out? Where's 'out'?"

The tall boy's temper flared at the curiously patronizing tone in his best friend's voice. "You are not my mother, Seamus!"

"I never said I was! All of us—Neville, Harry, Ron, and me—were worried. We thought you were stranded in the Forbidden Forest, for Merlin's sake."

"Oh." Dean felt a small tinge of guilt. His friends had been worried when he really had been…

Even thinking about it had a blush running up his neck. The other four boys noticed.

"Dean," Ron grinned, "where were you _really _last night?"

"Er, well, I was… er… withRomilda." He said the last part so fast, Ron wasn't sure he'd heard it correctly.

"Romilda Vane? The barmy Gryffindor who tried to love-potion Harry and ended up getting me? Her?"

Again, Dean's temper flared. "I spent the night in her room last night."

All four boys—especially Neville's, bless him—eyes bugged out of their heads. "You WHAT?" Seamus gasped.

**"You SLEPT with Romilda? You don't even _like _her!"** Ron.

"Oh my. Wow." Neville.

"Oh Merlin. Damn." Harry.

Dean sighed, patiently. "I happen to like—maybe even _love_ her."

"_**LOVE **_her? Love her? You love her, Dean?"

"I just said that."

"I know. But, Dean. We're seventeen."

"So? What's your point?"

"We're seventeen," Neville repeated.

"I love her. Oh Merlin, I love her," Dean whispered, blocking out the four boys as he clambered off of his bed and threw proper clothes on.

At least it was a Saturday.

He flew off the stairs, determined to reach her as she left the common room. He already knew she left every day (on the weekends, only, really) at about 10 to 11.

"Romilda!" he shouted, seeing the long, dark thickness of her hair.

She turned on her heel after she sent her friends off without her, her eyes lighting up, but becoming guarded. They were in public, and, really, they had agreed to keep their relationship a secret.

_Why now,_ she wondered, _why now?_

"Yeah?" She asked, in a, she was proud to hear, strong voice. Dean didn't know what he did to her, honestly.

He smiled at her, and her knees felt weak.

"I love you," he whispered, once he reached her.

"Oh," she breathed softly, a smile blossoming onto her face, her eyes losing that guarded look. "I love you too."

Gasps could be heard around the common room, but the two standing near the portrait hole were oblivious to everything.

What only mattered now was their significant other.

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**Author's Notes: **_Two in a row. I'm on a roll. Lol. _

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd love the feedback!**_


	4. Six: Absolute Need

**Phrase: **Phrase 6; 'I never thought I'd say this. But—I need you in my life.'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **T, just to be safe…**  
Word Count: **229**  
Summary: **Romilda needs him in her life, and he knows that.**  
Author's Notes: ****Thanks to L'amoreuse for reviewing!** _This drabble coincides with __**Breaking Her Façade**__ and __**Dayna's Tale**__, but you don't have to have read them to understand. Though it would be nice… heh, and a couple more reviews wouldn't hurt, but whatever. Some people are just inconsiderate. And, yes, I do know that it's short. But, it is a drabble. Hey! Did you know a oneshot is 301 words or more?_**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling!_

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**PHRASE SIX**

**Absolute Need**

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"Dean! Dean!" she cries, just as he turns to look at her. With a small smile headed his way, she whispers something softly, before he can leave her again, before he can leave on another Auror mission just like he'd done when she was pregnant with Liam.

**"I never thought I'd say this. But, I need you in my life."**

He takes a while to reply, and she fears the worse. She raises her eyes to gaze into his.

His eyes soften. "I love you," he replies, "and I already know. I mean, you've stayed with me for a little more than 7 years, right?"

He gathers her into his arms, breathing in her scent. She was an addiction to him—actually, she still _is_ an addiction to him.

"Don't leave. Please." Those three words pierce his heart, but the way she says them penetrates it.

"Of course I won't. I'll tell them I need to have a break. Is that okay?"

She smiles, burying her face deeper into his chest. "You don't have to do that. Just…" she catches his gaze again. "Just don't go too far."

"I'll never go too far. That I promise you."

Lightly, he kisses her lips, before trailing kisses down her neck.

"Dean," she giggles. "We're having another baby."

"I know," he smiles, kissing her on the lips again. "And I can't wait."

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**Author's Notes: **_Aw, this one's short, but adorable._

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'd love the feedback!**_


	5. Thirteen: Random Confession

**Phrase: **13; 'I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm in love with you. Just thought you should know.'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **K+**  
Word Count: **271**  
Summary: **When she passes by him in the corridors, he is confused, and slightly surprised by what she says. Apparently, everyone is surprising everyone.  
**Author's Notes: **_Random (hehe) concept, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks to **L'amoureuse** for the review!_  
**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. JKR owns everything, and thank goodness! I'd probably ruin it all._

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**PHRASE THIRTEEN**

**Random Confession**

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A deep breath escaped me as I walked past him in the cold, stone hallways of Hogwarts.

**"I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm in love with you. Just thought you should know."**

And then I ran like an army of Blast-Ended Skrewts was right on my tail.

Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin…..

_Why'd I do that? _

_What in Merlin's name possessed me to do something like _**that**_?_

And then the mantra of _'Oh Merlin's _reappeared in my mind, as I could clearly hear the hard patter of footsteps right behind me.

I gulped, feeling a warm hand capture my arm gently,

But I stopped running nonetheless.

"W-what did you say?" he asked quietly, a slight stutter in his tone.

"I-I… I said that I'm in _love_ with you."

"Oh. I thought so." He waited a moment before he replied with an, "I'm in love with you too."

"Oh, that's… wait, what?"

A light coating of pink appeared on his cheeks, and I could also feel the obvious heat of a blush spreading over my neck.

"I-I well, since you just randomly said _that_ out of no where, I decided I'd do the same thing."

I laughed softly, finally noticing the fact that his hand was still gripping my arm.

And then I proceeded to flush again.

Yes, this was awkward, yes, this was odd, but, really, it was natural the way I felt about him.

And, apparently, he felt the same way for… me.

Maybe random confessions aren't so bad after all.

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**A/N: **_Requests are still opened. And, yes, I know the end's odd. And that it's very abrupt, but, yeah.  
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_**Reviews are greatly appreciated! I'd love the feedback!**_


	6. Ten: Only For You

**Phrase: **10: 'Did you hear?! They are dating! How absurd!'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **K+ _(mentions a certain commonly-used rumor…)_**  
Word Count: **387**  
Summary: **Maybe, just maybe, the two of them will be able to put up with the rumors. Only for the other.**  
Author's Notes: **_Thanks to L'amoureuse, BlackxZodiac, and This or That_ _for reviewing! _Sorry for such a long wait. I was busy with school. (And, there's a tense change after the first **–x-**.)** And, is it just me, or are the e-mails from FFN not coming through? (Ugh. Hate it when that happens.)**  
**EDIT: _Yay! The e-mail problem is fixed!_****  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. JKR owns everything, and thank goodness! I'd probably ruin it all._

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**PHRASE TEN**

**Only For You  
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"**Did you hear?! They're dating! How absurd!" **I sighed, trying to ignore the flurry of whispers erupting, as I walked hand-in-hand with him, heading to our first class of the day: Potions.

I fought the urge to growl; sometimes, these… these _girls_ just had the nerve to put their own opinions in about everything. Ugh. They'd be perfect for _Witch Weekly_. _Witch Weekly_, good luck with them. You guys'll need it.

Caught by surprise, I squeaked when I felt myself being pulled into an alcove. "What was _that_ for?!" I cried indignantly.

For once, his normally bright black eyes were serious as they bore into mine.

"Just ignore them," he whispered soothingly. My eyes softened a smidge.

"Fine," I said. "I'll _try_."

He smiled, pressing his lips to my temple. "That's all I ask."

I leaned my face up, smiling against his lips as he obliged, and it was a while before we emerged from the alcove.

Apparently, we were late for Potions. What did we care.

**-x-**

"I don't think I can do this," I whisper, deja-vu..ing as I _try_ to ignore the stares and whispers.

He's silent, but I feel the gentle pressure of his hand against mine, and _maybe, just maybe_, I'll be able to put up with this.

**-x-**

"I bet you she's only in it for the shagging."

"Mhhm. Quite likely."

I grit my teeth. Even though I want desperately to punch them in their oh-so-'perfect' (see the sarcasm?) faces, I hold back.

For the sake of him.

And so it's a surprise when I see him march up to the girls with his fists clenched, his eyes blazing, black embers.

"Don't say that about her," he says harshly. I take that as my cue, walking forward a few steps, before I place my hand gently on his upper arm.

"They're not worth it," I whisper, my turn to be soothing. He stares down at me, and I smile gently, massaging his arm.

He huffs, but interlaces our fingers together, turning, and stepping, away from the girls nevertheless. "Fine," he says, once we're safely entangled together on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, smiling with his eyes sparkling. Oh, good, he's not mad anymore. "Only for you."

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**Author's Notes: **_Ta-da! Again, sorry for the wait!_

_**Reviews are love. I'd enjoy the feedback. Thanks!**_


	7. TwentyThree: Comfort Me, Would You?

**Phrase: **23; He/she turned around only to see him/her kissing (insert best friend here).**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **T, for mild swearing.**  
Word Count: **519**  
Summary: **When she's upset, falling in the process, he'll always be there to catch her. To comfort her.**  
Author's Notes: **_Another one! Yay! I'm done with caring about reviews. Writing is love; reviews are just an added bonus._**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. JKR owns everything, and thank goodness! I'd probably ruin it all._

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**PHRASE TWENTY-THREE**

**Comfort Me, Would You?**

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I laughed at something one of my friends said, my mood high and perfectly joyous, opening the door of the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Common Room, with a simple "icicle pops."

I almost fell onto the maroon-red carpet, already trying to walk backwards, and into the common room. The Friend-Who-Makes-Me-Laugh gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth.

**I turned around, only to see Parker Ryan (my boyfriend of two months) kissing my best friend (of 6 years), **quite heatedly, in fact, the two of them on the couch, and I didn't know where one ended and another began.

That cheerful mood went _poof_ and a dark, black cloud appeared over my head—figuratively, of course—and I felt my hands clench into fists. Unfortunately, tears sprang into my eyes as well, and with a muffled sob—I didn't even _want_ it to escape—I turned around again and fled, not caring where I went as long as I was away from them—_him. _

Without looking where I was going, I didn't even notice when I bumped into a strong, broad chest, only recognizing the fact that his hands were on my shoulders, steadying me.

"Is something wrong?" he—I assumed he was a he; his voice called for it—asked gently, his deep baritone rumbling.

"N-no," I hiccupped. He made me look up at him, and I caught my breath when I glanced into his deep, dark, almost black eyes.

"Are you sure?" he whispered softly, and I saw a hint of a boyish smirk on his features. He obviously knew I was lying.

I huffed. "What do you think? No, I'm not sure." I felt the tiniest bit guilty for my tone, but I couldn't—_wouldn't_—care right now.

He stayed silent, but he didn't move away from me, like I thought he would. Hm.

"Guys are such _asses_," I mumbled.

"Hey," he said softly, not even sounding offended. I allowed myself a small smile.

"Sorry." And, surprisingly, I actually _did_ sound sorry.

"It's fine. We _can_ be assholes when we want to be. What happened?"

I don't know why, but I found myself telling him what had made me so unhappy—no, scratch that. So _angry_. "The usual," I sighed. "Parker cheated on me. _With my best friend_."

He winced sympathetically. "Ouch."

Somehow, saying it aloud, and him compassionately agreeing with me only added to the hurt I was feeling, and I blinked back tears. He noticed, surprisingly, and hesitantly wrapped his arms around me.

I was surprised by the obvious safety I felt while his arms were encircling me, and I only burrowed myself deeper into him, wanting to get to know him better.

And, really, I wasn't scared. For some reason, I knew he would never hurt me.

And that was enough reassurance for me, as I backed away slightly, still in his arms.

"Comfort me, would you?" I whispered, right before lifting my face to his. His fathomless eyes deepened, taking me in, before he lowered his lips to mine, washing any worries—and hurt—I had away.

Who was Parker, again?

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**A/N: **_I know. Depressing beginning, but wasn't the ending just so cute?! Requests are still open.  
_

_**Reviews are love. I'd enjoy the feedback. Thanks!**_


	8. Nineteen: Being Of Age

**Phrase: **19; 'How do you feel now that you're officially of age?'**  
Pairing: **Dean/Romilda**  
Rating: **T, for intense kissing.**  
Word Count: **925**  
Summary: **Being of age, being 'old', I mean, has its perks.**  
Author's Notes: **Sorry about the super long wait! Darn writer's block. _ The tense looks weird in this one, so maybe I'll fix it when I figure out what's so wrong. I _know_ something's wrong with the stupid tense, but I don't know what it is.**  
Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. JKR owns everything, and thank goodness! I'd probably ruin it all._

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_**PHRASE NINETEEN**

**Being Of Age**

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"So," he said, once my Apparition test was over, and I was allowed to disappear and reappear at different ends of the world if I had to (I just had to have seen the location), **"how do you feel now that you're officially of age?"**

I pondered the question for a moment. "Well, first of all, I feel old."

He laughed outright. "You don't _look_ old," he replied.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Yes. Why?"

I blushed, despite myself. "Just asking…" I glanced at him. "And thanks."

He was the one with me, here at the Ministry of Magic, my supporting friend (what was he to me?) as I took the Apparition test, now that I was officially 17. When I'd emerged from behind the closed examination room, he was right there, waiting for me, making my body shiver with an unknown emotion. I pondered what feeling could elicit such a reaction from me.

His dark eyes smiled at me, his caramel-colored, slender fingers—toned because of the numerous amounts of hours he spent holding a quill to create a spectacular magical portrait of a customer—flitted over my back, and then settled there when I didn't speed my pace from his touch, gently guiding me into the lift at the very end of the Ministry's long, narrow hallways.

They weren't so narrow that I had to press my back against his chest, but, needless to say, I did just that anyway. I could almost see his smirk, but he stayed quiet, refraining from emitting a cocky remark about my need to be close to him. Normally, I never would've done what I just did, but I was feeling a bit bold around him now that I knew him better.

Not even my _friends_ had come with me. He did, though, and I felt closer to him. My breathing grew deeper as I stayed pressed up against him, the feeling of his muscled chest prominent on my back, even in the magically enhanced lift—the lift could hold up to 10 people, and only the two of us were on it. I _could_ be on the other side of this elevator, but I was still touching him.

He brought his arms around my waist, surprising me so much that I squeaked, but, still, I didn't move away. His legs were suddenly moving back, bringing me with him, and then he paused abruptly. I could hear the _thud_ of his own back as he finally reached the back of the elevator.

I turned to face him, his eyes scanning mine, and then my eyes apparently thought the ground to be lovely, and glued their gaze there.

He doesn't say anything, instead bringing his fingers, resting on my lower back, up my body slowly, making me shiver, and, once he saw my reaction, he smirked. I ignored him.

He said my name, and I felt his fingers caressing my neck, eliciting another delicious shiver making its slow way down my spine, until they reached my chin. Gently, he tugged, my eyes meeting his once again.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked softly.

"I—I don't know. What are _you_ doing to me? I don't always do this,"—I gestured to the proximity of our bodies—"but I just feel… _safe_ with you. Like you'd never hurt me."

His eyes burned, the irises devouring me, and I felt my breath catch as he spoke, "I would never hurt you."

"I know that," I whispered, and then he kissed me, right there in the elevator where anyone could come in. It wasn't as if the lift would break down (it was magical after all), but nobody entered.

His lips were gentle at first, moving at the speed I conducted, but then I was jumping up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he was lifting me using sheer muscle power alone. My head angled forward, deepening our heated, feverish kiss, and my head was swimming with pleasure, passionate kisses tearing out of my lips.

His soft tongue gently brushed over my lips and I allowed him access, moaning into his mouth as he delved in, tasting every crevice of my mouth. He groaned, and my fingers swept into his longer-than-usual, silky dark hair, and then he was copying me, his hands running through my hair; I couldn't see, I could only feel, and I was caught up in the feeling of him, the taste of him, the delicious animal-like noises roaring out of him, and I forgot about everything _but_ him.

Finally our lack of air broke us apart, and our breathing was labored, almost in sync. I smiled dazedly, and he grinned back, pulling me closer to him as we regained our breathing.

"I like this—you being of age. I can have my way with you."

I blushed profusely, and he smirked. "Just kidding. Maybe when you're older, hmm? But, what do you think about going to The Three Broomsticks with me?"

"Are you asking me on a _date_?"

"I guess I am."

Interlacing our fingers just as the lift doors opened (it felt like an eternity later), I answered him with a kiss as I walked backward, him leading the way, and I mumbled, "Yes," too occupied to say anything more.

I think we scarred some Ministry workers with our blatant display of affection. One couple (at least, I think it was a couple) did say, "Oh how cute. Young love. Don't you remember when _we_ did that, William?"

I couldn't be sure. I was occupied.

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